fall breathes its last

it is fading; those golden, careless, breezy days are slipping from my grasp. the wind blows harder each day and trees and branches quiver - my heart is mourning, wishing the season would begin again. we're on a walk in sun-dappled woods; light shards dance on the ground, the last of leaves make their lazy, slow decent to the ground. i clutch my camera tight and slip on a crooked smile - a smile balanced between the bitter-sweet last days of fall and crispness of winter unfurling.